


Leylandia

by JackieSBlake7



Category: Blake's 7
Genre: Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-06-09
Updated: 2016-06-09
Packaged: 2018-07-14 01:28:31
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,834
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7146563
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/JackieSBlake7/pseuds/JackieSBlake7
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>What happened to Captain Leylan</p>
            </blockquote>





	Leylandia

Leylan was duly grateful to most of those who had helped him in his career. The most important of these were the rebel Roj Blake, and sometime Supreme Commander and President Servalan.

Blake’s taking of the ship afterwards known as the Liberator had cost Leylan his captaincy. Any resentment Leylan had felt had been dispersed when he started being consulted as an “expert” on Blake. Years of having to operate in the prison service – one of the less well-funded sections of the Federation’s administration – meant Leylan knew how to effectively negotiate allocation of resources and favours in return, a process which could be repeated constructively. He quickly learnt when a judicious mention of Space Commander Travis would have an effect. Travis, at one of their occasional encounters, indicated he was aware of Leylan’s trick – and indicated that he approved of someone who understood how to play the game effectively.  
Leylan felt certain he could eventually arrange the pre-retirement desk job that had been his ambition – but the Intergalactic War intervened, with its near-catastrophic destruction of the officer corps. Supreme Commander and new President Servalan had ordered the re-recruitment of any and all ex-officers who were still loyal to the regime, of normal working age and even beyond. Like others in his position Leylan was reasonably sincere in his expressions of gratitude towards her on his restoration to command.

Making use of his contacts Leylan acquired a decent job on a ship ferrying persons whose actual importance sometimes matched their self-perceived significance. With years of handling usually fractious and sometimes boisterous prisoners he found little difficulty in manipulating politicians, while his seeming lack of political ambition gained him more than one transfer or promotion – he was not associated with any faction. So did his letting his superiors take credit for the reforms he suggested – the talk on prison ships had given him a fair idea of the mostly minor changes that were desired. Within a short time discontent was down and productivity up in the areas involved, resulting in Leylan being transferred to a similar – and better-paid – job in the Inner Planets. He was almost prepared to forego the quiet desk job in favour of the benefits of further promotion.

Leylan was indirectly involved in the arrangements Servalan made while she went to Terminal and her body double went to Geddon. He had followed the advice once given by the now long-vanished Travis – who, it was generally assumed, had died in the Intergalactic War – to get any offers of promotion or other gains made by superiors in general, and Servalan in particular, down in writing. With the death of Commissioner Sleer acting as President Servalan Leylan was thus able to arrange his next promotion without anyone querying it, especially given the power struggle that arose.

He let it be known about Servalan and Sleer’s cross-substitution – and convinced the senior officials most interested in the affair that it might be best to let Servalan remain as Commissioner Sleer rather than pension her off or execute her, thus allowing her erstwhile supporters to create trouble as they created new networks. As the new President said, even with the help of her few remaining supporters it would be a long time before she could be a problem again, and she might still be useful. A discrete watch, however, was kept on her activities.

As it appeared she was chasing the Liberator group – which now appeared to be operating separately from the ship for at least some of the time – Leylan decided to do the same. Administrative support for further mild reform was growing – if the various populations were quiet those who theoretically governed them could pursue their own interests. There was a growing consensus that conceding some of the demands of the various opposition groups might be more effective than suppressant drugs and repeated use of violence. And, Leylan decided, that for his own purposes the best links with the rebel movements would be those with whom he had had previous contacts. He found he was not alone in this, and decided to act with due haste.

****

Arlen was a personal agent of Leylan’s. He treated her claims of contact with the master agent Bartolmew as probably exaggerated to impress, but she was effective. Like other younger supporters of the regime she was more loyal to the existing Federation ideological system than her superiors, who were more concerned with “what worked” and how they could benefit from it. Arlen was set the task of finding the long quiet Blake and did not question her orders as a more experienced officer might have.

Arlen tracked Blake to a planet called Gauda Prime. Leylan decided to retrieve “his” rebel in person, for various reasons – not least because it was traditional for those awaiting promotion in the higher ranks to be away from the centre, to avoid claims of undue pressure – even if such were the case.

Unfortunately things only went partially as planned. Arlen *did* infiltrate Roj Blake’s base, and stun settings *were* used. It was extremely convenient that the other rebels Leylan wished to acquire brought themselves to the base rather than having to be found. However what happened next was almost a disaster.  
No doubt, Leylan reflected, the bizarre scene of being confronted by a grinning Kerr Avon standing over Blake would be amusing in retrospect, but it had been surprising, to say the least, at the time. Arlen, it seemed, had lost control of the situation, and would be dealt with accordingly.  
Now Leylan would have to turn the situation to his advantage.

****

‘As far as *I* am concerned,’ Leylan said to the group of somewhat dishevelled rebels in front of him, ‘what happened was a misunderstanding brought about by a confused situation.’ It appeared to be close to the truth.  
‘As you wish,’ Avon replied. ‘What do you intend doing to us?’  
‘My offer to secure your freedom expired when you took the Liberator for your own ends,’ Leylan said, allowing himself a smile.  
‘I thought it might,’ Avon observed. He seemed to be still stressed, despite several days’ rest.  
Vila looked slightly nervously at the others and then at Leylan. ‘We’d settle for Cygnus Alpha again instead – or somewhere better if we can. After all some of us did help save the galaxy from the invasion…’ He stopped.  
‘Imprisonment would be a waste of your talents, you must admit,’ Leylan said. ‘I have better uses for all of you.’  
‘How?’ Blake asked suspiciously. He would recover fully from his injuries – Leylan had ensured that he had the best medical treatment.  
‘Will you hear me out first? You will also have the opportunity of Cygnus Alpha.’ Leylan was prepared to give them a way out. There were always other rebels.  
‘I’ve had worse offers,’ Avon remarked.  
Leylan sat back in his chair.  
‘The Federation administration is in need of further reform – otherwise we will only have to keep on dealing with rebels and malcontents like you.’ He indicated the whole group.  
‘They will *always* exist,’ Avon said. ‘even if you enable everybody to live the life of luxury and have the jobs they think they deserve.’  
‘Probably. The suppressant drugs deal with the symptoms not the problems. And they mostly cease to work, or have other side effects, after a while.’  
‘So what do you plan doing? Hand over everything to the rebels?’ Blake asked, slightly sarcastically.  
‘Not quite. We have the administrative skills and the capacity to act – the rebels can see the problems. We combine the two and create something that most people find acceptable, and which can handle another alien invasion. You’d have to come to some accommodation anyway, not having the administrators among your supporters – we’re just saving some time and bloodshed.’ Leylan smiled again. ‘Think it over.’  
‘A professional keeps it simple Blake,’ Vila said. ‘What about the rest of us?’  
‘I have separate plans for you Vila, and you Avon.’  
‘What?’ Vila asked nervously.  
‘Most of my predecessors set up bank accounts and safes for their own personal use. Those who departed untimely…’  
‘Which is most of them,’ Avon interrupted. ‘You want us to gain access to them for you.’ He obviously wanted the challenge – as did Vila: it was clear others were making calculations as to what they could offer.  
Leylan nodded. ‘I will assume only reasonable deductions are made unless I get evidence to the contrary. And of course, reasonable use of the deductions as well.’ Faint nods indicated that this agreement would be honoured – another case where leading where subordinates and others wished to go anyway was appropriate. Leylan looked at the other rebels. ‘I will make appropriate use of other skills.’ Of which the group before him seemingly had a number.  
‘Hang on a minute,’ Blake said. ‘You expect us to calmly accept your offer and volte-face? How can we trust you?’  
‘I am going to make use of the rebels to keep the Federation going with the minimum necessary changes that can be negotiated. If it is not you here some other group will be convinced. Your choice.’  
From the expressions of the group Leylan suspected that Blake would be “persuaded” to make this choice whatever he actually wanted. Blake looked at the rest of the group – it seemed he had come to the same realisation.  
‘We are free to negotiate – and decide if we think it is not working?’ Blake asked.  
‘We will come to a working arrangement,’ Leylan replied. He preferred working with people who understood the need for opt out clauses without being asked.  
One of Leylan’s aides joined him with a note.  
‘Send her in,’ Leylan said. He would enjoy himself.  
A few moments later Servalan appeared. The rebels looked nervous.  
‘Greetings Commissioner Sleer,’ Leylan said. ‘To what do I owe this pleasure?’ As if he did not know.  
‘I have come to take the prisoners.’  
‘The prisoners are my concern.’  
Servalan responded angrily. ‘Do you know who I am?’  
‘Yes I do. In fact, we have known all along who you are, Commissioner… Servalan.’ Leylan smiled. Servalan looked somewhat disconcerted. ‘There were those who wished to see how much of your success was due your being placed in the higher ranks, and your connections, and how much to innate ability. Given your persistent failure to catch these rebels, or to rise in the ranks, the answer seems obvious.’ The rebels in question remained silent, uncertain of what was going on.  
‘So why didn’t you do anything?’ Servalan asked, slightly unnerved.  
‘It was thought you might lead us to Blake and his colleagues,’ Leylan replied. He knew Servalan was dangerous, but his subordinates had their orders. ‘Which you proved incapable of doing. You proved more capable of eliminating your potential supporters, which was not something we wished to stop.’ Leylan was enjoying himself. ‘Your activities will be formally investigated. You can start by explaining what arrangement you came to with Belkov over the Feldon crystals and what happened to a consignment of black gold in your possession…’  
‘I will see that you pay for this,’ Servalan said. Leylan could see she was becoming angry – and, hopefully, careless.  
‘How?’ Leylan asked. ‘Why are you, a mere commissioner here?’  
‘You will yield up the prisoners. I have connections.’ She smiled. Leylan could almost see why some found her attractive. Whatever charms she had had were, however, beginning to fade – the resources available to a commissioner were not sufficient to provide her with the treatments she had previously made use of – and the knowledge that one had authority also had an effect.  
Leylan smiled, and glanced at the rebels. They had no reason to help Servalan, but, just, some to aid him if need be. ‘You are, Servalan, officially, a mere Commissioner, and Gauda Prime is not a planet over which you have, or requested, any jurisdiction.’  
‘And you have?’ Servalan’s uncertainty was visible, and her authority, such as it was, thereby diminished.  
Leylan glanced at his computer: the official message confirming his appointment had just arrived. ‘Yes. I am placing Gauda Prime and its environs under military jurisdiction – which means that I can command you.’  
‘I will destroy you,’ Servalan said heatedly, almost shouting. She obviously realised the situation was out of her control.  
Leylan laced his fingers together, and glanced at the rebels. ‘I think you, Commissioner, know better than most the penalties for threatening the Supreme Commander.’ He was glad of the desk between them as Servalan came in for the attack. ‘Guards – restrain her.’ They did so.  
Leylan with all his experience did not recognise some of the terms she came out with as she struggled to escape.

‘What will happen to her?’ Blake asked when Servalan had been removed, to be placed in a secure space.  
‘Another minor post, probably deskbound and in the outer regions, which will keep her from interfering.’ The usual minor blocks would be imposed – never enough for the official concerned to have a case to present for bias without seeming slightly paranoid or worse about things, but enough to make them aware what was being done to them. ‘But she can wait. Will you help me?’  
‘I don’t see there is much of a choice,’ one of Avon’s group, Soolin, said. ‘You turn it down, and we end up on some prison planet or running around giving the authorities little more than pinpricks while someone else accepts and gets all the glory. Do this and you just might have some influence on what happens.’ This was addressed to Avon and Blake.  
Leylan made a mental note to see what else Soolin could come up with.  
‘And, besides,’ Leylan said, ‘I have Orac. Most talkative it is.’ The chief among its long list of demands and requests was that it not be turned into the next Star One, which would be a grotesque misuse of its claimed, but undemonstrated, abilities. It had protested even more when Leylan had remarked that it probably would not be quiet long enough to provide the necessary security, but would instead talk any intruders to death.  
‘The little two-timing…’ Vila said.  
‘Actually,’ Leylan said, ‘Orac was most insistent that I come to a deal with you. Claimed it would create all sorts of problems if I did not,’ which, from experience with ordinary computers, seemed plausible. ‘Also promised me the benefits of its researches if an arrangement was reached.’  
‘Which,’ Avon said, ‘tend to be often inconvenient to those it works with.’  
‘I had suspected that.’

****

It had taken six months to reach the present situation, but Leylan decided his gamble had paid off. Even those within the Federation administration who had initially criticised his policy of making use of rebels and their ideas admitted that it was providing results that the old system had not. The populations of the Federation approved of the reforms and the government that was introducing them. This meant less need for suppressant drugs, spies and others, and the use of military force. This in turn had a beneficial effect on the Federation’s budget – which had enabled a much publicised reduction in some of the more visible taxes, again popular.

Leylan’s People, as they had become known, were proving very effective, and were being joined by others. Roj Blake, in particular, was good at highlighting problems within the Federation’s structures and, with some persuasion and training, identifying solutions, a role he seemed to enjoy. Avon, Deva and Vila, and several of the others were proving most successful at retrieving misplaced funds, and were not overtly dishonest in the amounts they took as fees. As they appeared to devote the funds partly to private research, some of it useful to others, and to acquiring a ship for exploring the galaxy, Leylan decided not to interfere further. Orac managed to convince Leylan that it did have more use than the average computer.  
The rest of Leylan’s People were proving equally successful in the tasks set them – and in making further contributions to the changes that were made. Orac – despite protesting regularly and extensively – was being made to contribute to developments, and was occasionally persuaded to admit that some of the tasks set were of “minor” interest.  
Those in positions of responsibility were plagued less with the litany of requests and complaints that they had had previously, and so were able to divert their attention to topics of more personal interest. The rebels – apart from saying occasionally that the lack of a successful revolution had deprived them of the glory they felt they deserved, were, for the most part, duly grateful that things had happened so smoothly.  
“Commissioner Sleer” was making the most of, or was suitably distracted by, her new job: attempting to unite a region of unruly planets bordering on the Federation – and she and Arlen, who had also been sent there, were enjoying a long-running feud.  
As Vila had said on several occasions, it could be hoped that everybody would live reasonably happily ever after.


End file.
